


autocorrect

by Gh0stWithTheM0st



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gh0stWithTheM0st/pseuds/Gh0stWithTheM0st
Summary: “Flour. Flour, Kelley. For the pizza. F-L-O-U-R,” Sonnett all but shrieks, howling with laughter. She motions to the ingredients behind her. Kelley’s face must have dropped, she must look shellshocked because the blonde quickly adds in “I love them though, I knew you had it bad for me!”
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 7
Kudos: 165





	autocorrect

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for how sickly sweet this is. The inspo for this came from *that* pic of sonny holding the worlds largest pizza, and unfortunately flour/flowers has been a typo I'm guilty of. Enjoy!!!!

Kelley’s unsure of how she found herself outside Sonnett’s Portland apartment at 8pm on a Sunday. Well, that’s not exactly true. She knows why she’s there, what she doesn’t know is why she’s holding a semi-nice bottle of red and a bouquet of flowers.

Was this a date? Who _requests_ flowers? I mean, if Son’s cooking I guess the least I could do is bring wine and…. _flowers_?

No, still a little weird, Kelley thinks.

Kelley didn’t really peg Sonnett as someone who would like flowers, let alone send a text saying ‘ _wine and flowers see u soon_ ’ in response to ‘ _what can I bring_ ’.

x

The plan was to make homemade pizza. The idea had transpired when a late night out resulted in hovering around the oven at Rose and Mal’s place, watching a frozen pizza cook at 2:12 in the morning. It’s still unclear how Kelley ended up with the youngins, but it was becoming more and more expected. It was routine that when Allie and Alex left the bar, Kelley would call them grandmas and retreat to the younger crowd. (Little known secret, Kelley was starting to wish she could _start_ the night with them instead of just ending nights out with them, and that definitely had nothing to do with the blonde whose door she was in front of.)

Sonnett, eyes heavy and speech slurred, swore that night that she could make better pizza from scratch. She was leaning slightly on Kelley, both of them sitting on the kitchen floor alongside their more-than-slightly inebriated teammates. It came out as a mumble but Kelley rose an eyebrow in response, intrigued.

Kelley had insisted that if they wanted to make pizza that they would have to watch it. She wasn’t going to let the kids burn down their apartment if they decided to pass out and abandon their late night meal.

So here they were – Kelley with her legs outstretched across the oven. Sonnett to her right, unaware of personal space – a trait she associated with drinking as of lately. Kelley could feel her cheeks turning red and flushed. From the warmth from the oven or the blonde being so near she could smell her shampoo? Probably both, she mused. She wasn’t complaining.

Rose and Sam sat atop the counters and Lindsey splayed herself over the couch in the den. Mal was already tucked into bed.

The store-bought pizza was taken out successfully and Kelley was quick to turn off the oven. The girls ate in between fits of giggles and the occasional impersonation of a fellow teammate, a game they started playing ever since they began camps with the National team years prior.

In between bites, a still tipsy Sonnett hadn’t stopped boasting about how she learned ages ago how to make the best pizza from her dad. Frozen pizza could never compare, Dominos could not compare, and don’t even get her started about her vendetta against deep dish. Kelley couldn’t stop watching her talk animatedly with her hands, only making some semblance of sense with her mouth half full of pizza. Wisps of blonde hair were escaping the messy bun she had put her hair up in the moment she left the bar, in true Sonnett fashion.

“Who knew you were such a pizza snob,” quipped Kelley. “You sure don’t seem to discriminate though. You’re eating it, aren’t you?”

“Out of desperation, Ms. Kelley,” returned the younger girl with a look of exasperation on her face. “The next time I make it, you’re coming over and it’ll change your life. Rock your world. Light your fire, the whole sha-bang.”

x

Nevertheless, she’s outside Sonny’s door, contemplating knocking or barging right in. Kelley shifts from foot to foot and before she can make a decision the door swings open.

Kelley’s face breaks out in a full on grin when she sees Sonnett clad in an apron over some athletic shorts and a Thorns shirt. A dish towel thrown over her shoulder like she’s no stranger to the kitchen. And hey, maybe she isn’t. Maybe Emily Sonnett deserves more credit, the kitchen is full of pots, pans, tomatoes, cheese, olive oil, what looks to be the start of dough, and two empty wine glasses.

She’s got music going, not her usual upbeat pop but some oldies. The Rolling Stones ‘ _100 Years Ago_ ’ flows out of a speaker set up in the living room. _This is something I could get used to_ , Kelley lets herself think, guiltily.

“Inside Kel, just getting started,” Sonny leads the brunette into the apartment by the sleeve holding the wine when she sees the flowers.

Kelley sets the wine on the counter before looking back up to catch Sonnett’s eyes, which look bewildered by definition. Wide with surprise and amusement. Bluer than she remembers. Perfect without eye make-up. Bordered by light freckles, not as prominent as her own, but still there if you look closely and oh, fuck – Kelley’s looking way too closely.

“Oh! Um, yeah, so here are the flowers you wanted.” Kelley sputters out, extending her arm. She stopped at the actual florist on the way. Who was just about to close down for the day. She didn’t like any of the arrangements she could have gotten at the grocery store for half the price where she got the wine. Kelley decided on an assortment of light pink carnations, white hydrangeas, and a couple of lilies thrown in towards the center. There was some pretty greenery bordering the edges. The elderly lady at the shop was convinced it was an anniversary or a birthday. It was neither of those, which is why the notion of flowers has been tormenting her and causing her to think about every interaction the two have had lately.

Long FaceTime calls? Yeah. A Snapchat every couple of hours checking in on each other’s day? Yes. Picturing Emily’s face every time she sent her a meme that she hoped made the young defender laugh? Indeed. Flowers? A stretch, not a big one but still a stretch.

“Kelley, I’m flattered. Uh, I–” starts Sonnett, “Why, uh..”

Sensing Emily’s loss of words and evident confusion, Kelley jumps into defensive mode. No pun intended. She wasn’t about to be embarrassed in front of Sonnett, she’d never let her live it down.

“You ASKED for these! You told me to bring wine and FLOWERS,” Kelley exclaims with a furrowed brow, voice raised higher than normal. She could feel her face turning red again, it was starting to become a standard feature of hers when feeling nervous around Sonny.

_Am I being Punk’d? Why is she laughing? I’m glad this is funny for someone because I could just about cry._

“Flour. Flour, Kelley. For the pizza. F-L-O-U-R,” Sonnett all but shrieks, howling with laughter. She motions to the ingredients behind her. Kelley’s face must have dropped, she must look shellshocked because the blonde quickly adds in “I love them though, I knew you had it bad for me!”

She takes them from Kelley with a wink and admires them closely. Kelley runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head. HOW do these things happen to her?

“Son. It says right here, in my phone, ‘ _wine and flowers c u soon_ ’, verbatim” shoving the phone in front of Emily’s face.

“Look, I sent it through Alexa. Must’ve autocorrected. You always say how much I mumble, it must have picked up _flowers_ ” Emily fills in quickly. It’s like she can sense Kelley’s panic and doesn’t want to tease her enough to make her hightail it out of here. “Kel it’s no big deal, but we _are_ out of flour. Here - find a vase, I’ll go knock on a neighbors door.”

How is she so cool and collected about this, Kelley thinks. I guess this goes to show there is not even a slight chance Sonnett would think of me in a romantic sense.

“Oh, by the way I like being in your phone as the peach emoji. I’m going to change yours to that,” grins Emily as she exits the apartment in search of flour.

Flour, flowers, flour, flowers, flour. Kelley had never considered the words to sound all that similar in her head but now she understands. They’re pretty much the same word. Common mistake. Especially thanks to Alexa or Siri or the latest robot capable of dictating our speech to send off very misleading messages to friends who might feel like more than friends?

She finds a vase above the dishes in Emily’s cabinet and places the bouquet she brought in fresh water. Kelley glances toward the smart-speaker providing low hums of music across the room. The culprit. Kelley shakes her head, she’s never going to live this down. Never.

x

The awkwardness seems to be only in Kelley’s head because after a couple more rounds of teasing and a few compliments in her choice of flowers, they fall into a familiar ease. Emily walks Kelley through the importance of a dough to sauce to cheese ratio. She shoves a glob of dough in front of her and requests she adds flour, but not before she washes her hands. They busy themselves into a comfortable rhythm of Sonny giving instructions and shedding light on why they were doing certain things to the craft in front of them. Kelley uncorks the bottle of red she bought and refills their glasses twice before finally popping the pizza into the oven.

Nice doesn’t describe the feeling of cooking with Emily Sonnett adequately. It was something tactile and skillful that belonged in both their wheelhouses. Something besides soccer, something between them they could share. If Kelley were to describe cooking with Sonnett, she’d say natural. Or home-y. Or cozy. She liked learning from the young defender and she had the feeling Son liked teaching her. It was rare for Sonnett to have the upper hand in situations with the brunette. Kelley wasn’t a stranger to the kitchen, she cooked. But learning a recipe so beloved to the energetic, spirited, beautiful human across from her held greater meaning than what she bargained for. It was almost forgotten that she had shown up with flowers an hour and a half earlier, half expecting it to be a date. Hell, she’d deal with being friends with Sonnett if it meant doing stuff like this. She would take what she could get.

The timer went off, interrupting the conversation the two had been having on the couch, wine in hand. They’d been talking nonsense, as per usual. Flitting from conversation to conversation, cracking a joke here and there. Never getting too serious, that’s how they kept their friendship.

As Sonnett approaches the oven in reverence, she motions for the brunette planted on the couch to come see.

“Now _that_ is pizza, Ms. Kelly.”

x

Kelley would be lying if she said it wasn’t the best pizza she ever had. Sonnett was true to her word, she had outdone herself. She was thoroughly impressed.

After both of them had their fill they returned to former position on the couch, Emily’s legs propped up on the coffee table, Kelley’s outstretched onto the blondes lap. Music still on, this time Hozier’s " _Would That I_ " filled the room. It was fitting, _‘Oh, but you're good to me, oh, you're good to me’_. Kelley got a weird urge to slow dance but fought it.

“I have to hand it to you, that _was_ something,” Kelley tells her with a lazy smile. “I am beyond content right now.”

“You and me both. Glad you liked it,” replies a suddenly bashful Emily Sonnett, tucking her head down and gazing into her glass.

Kelley wiggles her feet to get her attention, Emily sits her glass down on the table in front of her to free her hands to rest against the older girls ankles. She runs her thumb across freckled skin absentmindedly.

The wine had loosened them both up to some extent, Kelley figured it’s now or never.

“Em. The flowers, if I had brought them.. you know, like for real for real, would that have been…um like cool?” Kelley says before she can bite her tongue. _Wow, O’Hara, real smooth._

She tries to steady her breathing before Sonnett responds. She watches Emily process the question. The makings of a smile are present, the corners of her lips start turning upwards, eyebrows slightly furrowed, ears slightly pink. Her hands still on Kelley’s legs. This time it was Sonnett’s turn to blush.

“I mean you did bring them ‘for real for real’,” says Sonnett, echoing her eloquent statement.

Kelley rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Instead of directly responding Emily opts to shift from under Kelley’s legs to lie beside her, head in the crook of her neck. Smushed between the back of the couch and Kelley’s warm body, it should feel uncomfortable but it feels like heaven to Emily.

“It would be more than cool. Always have fun with you…you can bring me flowers any time. Or I can bring you flowers. We can bring each other flowers.” Emily mumbles lowly into the space between Kelley’s neck and shoulder. She says it so quietly that Kelley thinks she imagining it. It gives her goosebumps. There’s no way this worked out in her favor. No way an AUTOCORRECT from a robot led to this moment. This moment of pizza and wine and flowers and flour and cuddling.

She runs a hand over the top of Emily’s head, smoothing her fly aways and massaging the soft skin at the base of her neck.

“I’d like that.”


End file.
